


Things that Shouldn't Be

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Big Love
Genre: Gen, Polygamy, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-17
Updated: 2007-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barb tries to adjust to life with Nicki in the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things that Shouldn't Be

**Author's Note:**

> Note: According to the Bill Henrickson page on wikipedia: "During her illness, Bill met Nicolette Grant, the daughter of the Juniper Creek prophet Roman Grant, and brought her to his home. Nicolette helped to comfort Barbara while she was sick and care for her children, and it was decided that when Barbara died Nicolette was to marry Bill and raise their children. Barbara, however, recovered from her illness, and instead of abandoning Nicolette, Bill decided to return to the principle of polygamy and take her as his second wife.  
> Thanks to my betas: curt_tone, brighteyedcat and cold_poet
> 
> Written for Lottelita

 

 

\--

The house is crowded. Even just the one additional person - it's someone none of them had any room for. Well, maybe Bill did. Maybe Bill had room for her all along. But Nicki is not who Barb signed on for. This is not what Barb signed on for.

Their vows have no room for cancer, for recovery, for _another_. And yet.

Sarah and Tancy, just a baby, are sharing a room, to make space for her. Barb can hear when she and Bill make love. She wonders what Sarah thought; if she and Bill were ever so noisy, if they ever knocked the bed into the wall. She can't remember days so long ago, when she wasn't sore and angry.

\--

Thank God it's a one way monitor, Barb thinks, at least allowing herself that dignity. Still, the whole concept rides on the notion that she's not able to get up herself and tell them that she's not well, or that she won't make it to the bathroom on her own. If she's not a baby, then why the baby monitor? She's tried to argue it, but that just tenses up muscles she doesn't need tensing, and Bill looks at her with those _eyes_ and so she allows it, that silly red light keeping her awake in this bed that's too big for her to sleep in by herself.

Still, the one-way thing doesn't prevent her from hearing exactly what is going on in the next room over. The rustles of fabric, the moans and thumps. The jostling of bedsprings. She wonders if they would even hear her over the ruckus; can't help but imagine the way Bill's eyes must look as they gaze into Nicki's, how her breasts must move as he thrusts into her... It makes her feel tight inside, and a little sick. All that blonde hair over the pillow when it should be hers. The thought makes her groan and turn over.

Sooner than she realizes, Barb's door is opened and Nicki steps in, wrapping a terrycloth robe around her, cinching the tie around her waist. "Well, Barb?" she snaps, arms crossed. She stands awkwardly and Barb rolls back, staring, and it dawns on her what she must have so utterly interrupted.

"Bill heard you over the monitor. Do you need something?" Nicki's voice is gravelly, her face anything but kind. Oh yes, this woman is a wonderful caregiver, Bill. Bring her into our home, our marriage, why don't you? Celestial peace and happiness? Sounds great!

Barb's eyes slip over Nicki, sadness seeping through her veins. "No, Nicolette," she whispers, turning the other way.

\--

Tancy is crying. It's that frantic cry that won't stop until someone is devoting their entire attention to her, and right now Nicki is supposed to be fixing dinner, so Barb struggles out of bed, taking the stairs slowly; two feet on each step before moving on.

"Come here, sweetie," she says when the baby sees her, but Barb is scared to bend down and pick her up, light as Teenie is.

She leans a little, stretching her arm to try and pet Tancy's back, but something tugs and Barb has to straighten up, catch her breath. Tears sting her eyes and Tancy starts up again, louder than before, and soon they are both crying, every sob hurting Barb from within.

Nicki rounds the corner, sauce-covered wooden spoon in hand. "What's--Oh, Barb," she sighs. "Oh, Barb."

\--

The ceremony is different this time around. No Church to commit the sealing, so Bill gathers their own elders; Don, Joey, others. Makeshift temple, makeshift ceremony. They don't dare attempt an LDS wedding, Bill says, things are too complicated. And he'd be lying to the elders and to God in that case. Barb wonders if they aren't doing that anyways. Lying.

Bill's sealing clearance has come from the Prophet, though Roman will not attend or oversee the ceremony. Nicolette is dressed in white, and up until the due time, holds Tancy on her hip. Sarah and Ben wait outside.

Bill brushes Nicki's hair back, says the consecrated words. Barb thinks she's supposed to be dead for this moment to happen. But she smiles, and takes both the hand of her husband and of this stranger-still, and squeezes.

\--

At the sound of the car pulling into the driveway, Barb is ready at the back door, hands on her hips. Nicki seems oblivious, taking her time shutting off the engine, and then stepping around to get Tancy from her car seat. "Oh, Barb," she says, shifting Tancy to her other arm and smiling. "No need to greet me at the door."

This isn't a greeting and they both know it. "Sarah told me you went to the Compound," Barb says, her voice terse. She tosses the cloth she's been using to dry dishes onto the clothes washer and reaches for Tancy, the tiny redhead scrubbing at her eyes.

"Mother's been wanting me to visit for weeks now." Nicki sidesteps around Barb and walks into the kitchen, dropping her purse onto a chair. "And Teenie sure didn't mind the trip, did you sweetie?" Nicki watches Barb's face as she tickles her fingers lightly over Tancy's back, eliciting a giggle.

Barb takes Tancy to her playpen, where the baby plops down happily. "I told you, I don't want the children out there."

Nicki raises her eyebrows. "And why not, Barbara. Not only is the Compound my home, but it was our husband's as well. I certainly don't see any harm in exposing them to their heritage."

Her hands grip the edge of the sink. "That place," Barb says, "is not our heritage. And you will not take my children there again."

Nicki smiles and places a hand on Barb's shoulder. " _Our_ children, Barbara," she corrects. "Don't worry, I'll ask next time."

\--

It's Bill's request, Barb knows, for Nicki to perform the laying on of hands. This woman would never initiate such an action on her own; her face harsh, her hair and dress severe. She's flushed with the heat of a Utah summer, but Nicki wears her hair down her back, long skirts and blouses, covered neck to toe. Sometimes Barb can smell the sweat of her, something more earthy than herself, more feminine than Bill.

Her womb aches. Just knowing that it is empty and will never be otherwise again.

But Nicki's hands are softer than she expected, the bare contact welcome since Bill is afraid to touch her since the surgery. Her hands are cool, too, in the heat, but beads of sweat trickle down behind Nicki's ear. Barb watches, holding herself still.

She feels no magic, no healing power. No light of God shines through the ceiling, but Nicki whispers a prayer so quiet Barb can't even make out the words.

\--

They don't discuss it over dinner, certain that the idea of bedroom delegations will disturb the children. Nicki is stiff as she scrubs dishes, turning the water too hot. Barb can see the steam, the reflection of Nicki's face in the window. She looks at Bill, silent. She's better. He can come back to her now.

"It's time," Bill nods, placing his hand on hers, his skin warm and familiarly calloused. He reckons the message God has shown him is pretty clear. He doesn't say what that message was. Bill is a different kind of spiritual now; something to do with the shape of Nicki's hips, perhaps.

Barb tries not to see Nicki quickly averting her gaze. Barb tries not to see a lot of things. That doesn't mean she doesn't see them.

\--

Bill rocks gently inside of her as if he's afraid she'll rupture or scream in pain. Truthfully, this feels better than anything Barb's felt in months. He brushes her hair back and she smiles up at him, not finding the words to tell him he can go faster, harder. She won't break, but she wants to feel.

Barb tugs him close with her ankles, and after long minutes he groans and spends himself, pulling her chest to his and kissing her neck delicately. Barb squeezes his shoulder, catches her breath.

She sleeps turned away, curled into herself. She's gotten used to not having another body next to her, and Bill seems in the way. She can't quite remember how she used to fit her arms around him. He takes most of the covers. She'd almost forgotten.

Barb slips her fingers between her legs, her body still warm. She'll never sleep if she leaves this unfinished. But her eyes drift closed, and as her movements quicken, her thoughts drift to Nicki, now alone in _her_ bed.

She bites her lip and arches against her fingers, hoping she won't wake her husband.

\--

Dinner again. Nicki has made casserole tonight, and Ben refuses to eat it. Sarah pokes with her fork, making an effort at least. Barb scolds, telling Ben not to leave the table until he's through.

"Oh," Nicki sighs. "Don't punish him for a lack of appetite." She leans her head into her hand, elbow on the table. The casserole is releasing a slightly putrid odor, but Barb swallows.

Her children still won't call Nicki "mother," and the thought should make Barb smile, at least inside.

The sun sets over the trees in their backyard and Nicki dumps the leftovers into the trash, keeping her back straight.

\--

Bill calls them together on New Years Eve, his two wives. The children are staying up, drinking grape juice, waiting for the ball to drop. Tancy clings to Sarah, sucking on her bottle. Sarah rubs the baby's back and calls her "Teenie."

Barb and Bill and Nicki watch from the kitchen, sipping juice of their own. Bill asks them to pray with him, for the New Year. Hands meet, Bill with one, Nicki with the other; a circle around the table.

Bill's voice is low, praising God for Barb's recovery, for the addition of Nicki to their family, for His promise of Celestial Joy in Heaven. Barb lets her eyes open, drifting over to the snow falling in Times Square.

She watches Bill as he speaks, fervent words falling from his mouth, asking for blessings in the months to come. She watches Nicki, stoic even now, her eyes closed, lashes brushing her cheeks.

Barb brushes her thumb over the back of Nicki's palm and looks down when her sisterwife's eyes fly open, sudden and bright.

\--

 


End file.
